


Must be the Season of the Witch

by 4ureyesonly28



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, F/F, Harriet Styles - Freeform, Louise Tomlinson - Freeform, Magic, Rites of Passage, Sorceresses, Strangers to Lovers, Witch Coven, Witchcraft, Witches, You heard it here first, and finds louise to help her deal with it, fashion changes lives people, girl!direction, harry discovers things about herself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27534058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ureyesonly28/pseuds/4ureyesonly28
Summary: Harry desperately needs a new coat. Louise has a feeling she should donate the old coat that she bought on a whim years ago to her favourite charity shop.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 16
Kudos: 41
Collections: Girl Direction Winter Fic Fest





	Must be the Season of the Witch

**Author's Note:**

> For whomever submitted this prompt: I hope you enjoy what I did with it!
> 
> Thank you to my lovely beta [Maggie](https://disgruntledkittenface.tumblr.com/)! Without you and your enthusiasm this fic wouldn't be what it is now.
> 
> Title is from the Lana Del Rey song. xx

Harry couldn’t feel the tip of her nose. Her fingers were so cold, so stiff, that her joints lit up with pain when she tried to form fists inside her pockets. She really needed to get a thicker coat for winter if it was going to be this harsh. Apparently moving down south wasn’t going to be as pleasant as she’d thought. It was only October, for Christ’s sake! 

As if to underline her thought, a gust of wind whirled up around her and plastered a wet leaf to her face. It wasn’t enough that her bus had broken down…No, Mother Nature had to quite literally slap her in the face in addition to the _wonderful_ day she’d already had.

She batted the leaf away and wrapped her favourite bouclé coat tighter around her middle, crossing her arms to tuck her aching fingers into the crease of her elbows. The lining in the pockets had started to tear anyway and she had no idea how to fix it so she thought she’d better not use them until she could ask somebody to help her with it. 

“I’m home,” she called as she finally entered her home, firmly closing the door to keep the cold weather outside. The warmth of the flat hit her face, making her skin pinprick with pain.

“Did you get my text?” Niall asked from the living room, watching footie by the sounds of it. 

“Ugh.” Harry kicked her boots off and walked stiffly towards her flatmate’s voice. “No, sorry, love. I was shivering so much I probably thought it was just the cold vibrating in my back pocket. What did you need?” 

“We’re out of tea.” 

Harry stopped in front of the telly and turned slowly. 

“You’re kidding, right?” She must’ve looked a bit unstable because Niall got up from the couch and walked over even though Derby County was playing. 

“Don’t worry about it, babes,” she assured, touching Harry’s cheeks lightly. “Jesus! You’re fucking freezing! I thought you were exaggerating.” 

“Wasn’t,” Harry said, the realization that she couldn’t even have a cup of tea to warm up slowly setting in. Her whole body shivered as she tried to meet Niall’s icy blue eyes, but her own eyes welled up with tears, making everything blurry. She tilted her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling out, but she couldn’t hold back anymore. Before she let out the first sob, Niall pulled her into a tight hug. 

“There, there,” she whispered, rubbing Harry’s arms and shoulders. “It’s gonna be okay. Tell me about your day?”

Harry nodded into her shoulder. “The printer at work broke for the third time in a week when I touched it,” she sniffled, trying not to get snot on Niall’s nice jumper. “And the lights in my office went out. Again. I swear it’s like I disturb electric currents with my mere presence or something.” She shook her head, almost getting dizzy with it as her face finally started to adjust to the temperature in their flat. Niall wrapped a fuzzy blanket around her shoulders. “Thanks. And then the bus broke down two stops before ours so I had to walk all the way home.” Another, quieter sob rattled her body as Niall murmured soothing words to her. 

“You go and run yourself a nice warm bath while I pop down to the corner shop and buy you some of that good herbal tea you like, yeah?” Niall suggested. “The one with the quotes on the label.” 

“Really?” Harry asked, sniffling again and reaching for the box of tissues they kept on their living room table. “Niall Jean Horan, you are the kindest woman I’ve ever met.” 

“Alright, alright. Enough of the flattery,” Niall tutted. Knowing her, Harry’s outburst probably made her a bit uncomfortable. “You need to get your body temperature up, love. Your lips are purple.” She directed Harry towards the bathroom and turned up the heat before leaving her to run her bath. 

As the tub was filling up, Harry washed her hands with hot water to get the blood flowing again. She leaned against the radiator, trying to warm her thighs and her back, but ultimately, none of the heat was permanent enough to travel to her core. She pulled her shirt over her head with a sigh and peeled her jeans from her legs in almost a trance, stepping into the scalding hot water and sinking down. She almost felt like she was dissolving, melting down like a candle. For the first time in weeks, the tension in her shoulders lessened and she felt like she could finally breathe.

After what felt like only a few minutes, Harry heard a knock on the bathroom door. 

“Are you alright, Haribo?” her flatmate asked through the door. “You’ve been in there for an hour, babes. Isn’t the water cold by now?” 

An hour? Harry glanced down at her pruney fingers and wiggled her toes. The water hadn’t gone cold at all. Weird. Her muscles were all relaxed and pliant as she sat up to drain the tub. 

“Time flies,” she called out to Niall. “I’ll be out in a minute.” 

“Okay, love.” She sounded relieved. “Your tea’s ready and I’ve queued up an episode of _Friends_ for you.” 

“I love you,” Harry sing-songed, getting out of the tub in a much better mood than she’d gotten in. Niall was the perfect flatmate, perfect friend and the first person in her life she actually considered family. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

It was earlier than Zayn would’ve liked, Harry knew that when she rang her bell. She did come with breakfast though, and if Harry knew one thing about her friend, it was that she couldn’t resist the coffee from her favourite bakery along with some warm apple pie. Harry could hear the receiver of the intercom being lifted and sighed into. 

“Hiii,” Harry said cheerily. 

Zayn’s flat “Harriet” was followed by a yawn.

“Zayna.” There was a short pause. “I’ve got three coffees,” Harry started, speaking even slower than usual so Zayn would understand her in her sleep-ridden state. “Two of them are for you.” 

“Hmm.” 

“I’ve also got fresh apple pie,” Harry continued, raising her eyebrows despite Zayn not seeing her. “And both are from the Sugardough Bakery on Market Street.” 

The loud buzzing sound let her know that she’d gotten everything right. And when she arrived on the first floor the door was slightly ajar, so she let herself in. 

Zayn was in the living room, buried under a pile of blankets with her eyes closed. Harry carefully approached the couch, putting the paper bag with the promised breakfast down on the coffee table. She grabbed some plates and mugs from the kitchen and poured Zayn’s coffee into a mug, waving her hand over it so the scent of it would waft over her. Zayn sniffled theatrically and slowly sat up, arranging her blankets so they covered her shoulders and lap, before reaching two hands out of her cocoon and snatching the mug from Harry. 

This was going better than anticipated. It was only nine in the morning and Zayn was already sitting, her eyes slightly open. Harry sat down next to her quietly and sipped her own coffee with a smile. She knew better than to fill the air with chatter. Zayn didn’t mind the quiet, she preferred it over meaningless pleasantries. And Harry had learned to appreciate the quiet more since she’d befriended her. 

She thought back to when they’d first met, how mesmerized she’d been by Zayn’s stone cold exterior and beauty. Harry had a weakness for long eyelashes and tattoos and it had taken her the better part of the evening to gather the courage to walk up and talk to her, but she couldn’t escape that _something_ that drew her in. At the time, she was hoping she could get a kiss or two out of it, maybe an ‘I’m new in town and I could use somebody to show me around’ type of fling, but she soon realized that Zayn was more than just a pretty face and not nearly as cold as she looked. 

“Stop staring at me, weirdo,” Zayn grumbled, pouring the contents of her second paper cup into her mug. 

“You’re a weirdo,” Harry pouted and stuck her tongue out. That actually went quite well with her previous train of thought. Zayn wasn’t fling material...She was ‘I’ll help you move this ridiculously large vintage picture frame to your flat and paint something for you to put in it’ material and ‘I’ll braid your hair while we’re high at 3am’ material. She was ‘I’ll let you take me thrift shopping on a Saturday morning even though I hate waking up early just to make you happy’ material. 

By ten-thirty Harry had gotten Zayn down to their favourite vintage shop Wit’s End. Zayn immediately made a beeline for the new graphic tees and band shirts, gone in a blur of long black hair and black leather jacket. 

“Harriet, darling!” Mrs. Wit greeted her with a smile. “How can I help you, love?” 

“Good morning, Mrs. Wit!” Harry smiled back, immediately feeling her heart warm. “I’ve got two things, actually...Firstly, I know you sometimes fix things up before reselling them, right?” She waited for the shopkeeper to nod. “Well, I bought this coat from you last year, you may remember...And I love it dearly. It’s just that the pockets are starting to come undone and I was wondering if you could show me how to fix them?” 

“No worries, dear.” Mrs. Wit touched her hand and took the coat from her. “Liam,” she called towards the back room and a young woman about Harry’s age came in, tucking a comic under the counter. 

“Yes, mum?” 

“Can you fix Harriet’s coat pockets while she looks around for what she needs?”

“Oh.” Harry looked at Liam and then back to her mother. “I mean, if you tell me how to do it, I can definitely try it myself. I didn’t mean to…”

“Nonsense,” Mrs. Wit interrupted. 

“I can show you,” Liam said softly, tying her wavy caramel hair back. “But it’ll be much quicker if I just do it in the back and give it back to you.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely,” Liam assured her with a smile not unlike her mother’s. 

“Thank you so much.” Harry bowed a little, her hands clasped in front of her chest. A habit she’d picked up in her brief time as a foster child with the Wangs that she just couldn’t quite shake, even though they’d put her back in the system after a few months. 

“Now...What else do you need, darling?”

“Oh.” Harry turned halfway towards the rest of the shop. “Ironically, I need a warmer coat.” 

“We’ve just gotten a few donations that are in a lovely condition. There’s a few in there that I think you’ll love.” Harry was directed to the front and left alone to look through the rack. A dark green piece caught her attention right away and she reached for it, pulling out a loden coat. Immediately upon seeing it in its full glory, Harry knew that she was going to take it home. It was almost a sense of relief she had, looking at the tag and seeing it was her size and on the upper edge of her price range. She didn’t know what she would’ve done if it didn’t fit or was too expensive. 

She walked over to Zayn, who had an armful of shirts and a pair of jeans on her by now. She held up the hanger and turned it so Zayn could see the black velvet collar and the flow of the heavy fabric as it flared out into an A-line at the seam. 

“That’s gorgeous.” Zayn nodded her approval. “And hopefully warmer than what you’ve got now.” 

“I’m in love.” Harry grinned. “What have you got? Do we need to sort through?”

“Yeah.” Zayn frowned. “I’m not leaving the jeans, so I can only take two shirts.” She was on a budget and Harry gave a sympathetic nod, starting to look through what her friend had pulled from the spinny rack next to them. 

In the end they chose a chord-velvet shirt in ochre and a t-shirt with a ‘YEAH…! OKAY…? FUCK THIS…’ print that Zayn said spoke to her on a deep emotional level. 

Liam rang them up, carefully tucking a stubborn strand of her gold-blonde hair behind her ear whenever Zayn looked at her. She blushed deeply when Zayn thanked her with a rare smile and Harry waited patiently for her to find her bearings, well aware of the aftereffects one such smile could have on people. Liam handed her the coat she’d fixed and put the new one in a large paper bag hastily, apologizing for dreaming away while working, but Harry assured her it was fine. They left the shop with a spring in their step, Zayn having fully adjusted to being in daylight, and had lunch at Donatello’s before parting ways. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

Harry had slipped into her new coat briefly at the shop, but the closer she got to home, the more excited she was to try it on again. Almost carelessly, she dropped her old coat at the door and quickly went to her room. 

She took the new coat out of the bag and unfolded it carefully, admiring the colour. It looked even more beautiful in the dim afternoon light coming through the gap in her heavy curtains than it had at the shop. The lining shimmered as she lifted it up and pulled it on, fixing the black velvet collar in front of the mirror and turning to see how it fit her. The belt around the waist accentuated her figure well, the heavy hem flowing beautifully with each movement. 

Harry felt powerful looking at herself, seeing the bright glint of her eyes. She turned, confident that this coat was going to be much toastier and better suited for winter than the other one. Putting her hands in the deep pockets and stretching her fingers, she felt something in there...A thick piece of paper, that she pulled out and unfolded curiously. The words seemed to blend together in front of her eyes as she looked at them.

_“Seiðr give me light,_

_Start a fire in this darkened night._

_Help me see what is disguised,_

_Bring brightness to my eyes.”_

She read the words out loud, furrowing her brow at them and jumping back when suddenly her entire room was alright with the flames of every single candle she owned. What the fuck?! 

Harry dropped the parchment and ran over to her dresser, staring at the assortment of scented and decorative candles she had on there and watching their flames flicker. She quickly checked on the few other candles that were scattered around her room, making sure that nothing was to catch fire as she examined what had happened. 

She carefully extracted one of the bigger candles she owned from the group on her dresser and walked over to her desk, setting it down. Letting herself fall into her rickety desk chair and leaning back, she just watched the flame dance for a while to see if there was anything unnatural about it. 

If she was hallucinating or dreaming, her brain may run out of flame footage and start looping it or something...but no such thing happened. She pursed her lips, thinking for a moment, before reaching out to touch the flame. First, she let her finger wander through it briefly, looking to see if there was any grime or soot left on her skin. She saw a black smudge and rubbed her fingers together, wondering if the flames could burn her. Another moment in the flames, this time longer, and Harry pulled her hand back with a hiss. Ouch. The flames were definitely real fire. 

Harry realized she’d been wearing the coat all this time, when a sheen of sweat formed on her forehead. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she should leave the flame unobserved as she put away the coat, but then again she hadn’t observed any of the other candles and they were still lighting up the room. How long had it been? If the wax dripping down the side of the candle on her desk was any indicator, she must’ve been staring at it for close to an hour. 

There was no use in this, Harry decided. She got up and took the coat off, putting it on a hanger in her wardrobe. She closed the door and let her head hit the wood, closing her eyes for a bit. 

There was no feasible explanation for this. None at all. She took a couple deep breaths and tried to figure out what the familiar feeling in the pit of her stomach was. Something had happened that didn’t make any sense. The oddity of it made her uncomfortable. She knew this feeling very well...A thousand instances of it came to mind: the damn printer at work, the lights, so many “coincidences” that she’d brushed off for years and years...There were no explanations for a wealth of things in her life and she’d just been ignoring that. 

How the hell had that little poem managed to light every candle in her room? Wait. It was just her room, right? Harry ran into the living room to check, sighing in relief when the candles there were unlit. She checked the kitchen and carefully peeked into Niall’s room, as that was the closest to where she’d been when reading the words. Nothing. Good. 

Before she went back into her own room, Harry wondered if the flames would still be alight after she’d left. No use guessing though, so she went back in. 

Everything was just like she’d left it, including the piece of paper on the floor. Maybe that could give her answers...She picked it up and looked at it, realizing with horror that the poem wasn’t written in regular letters. She was still able to read the strange symbols though, mumbling the words under her breath, afraid something else would catch fire if she properly enunciated them. How odd... 

She needed to sit down. How had she managed to read what was on the slip of paper? She must have gotten something right for the flames on the candles to have lit. Was it a prayer? And who even was Seiðr? Harry massaged her temples and turned on her laptop. This was going to be a long night. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

A crow was croaking outside the window, but other than that it was peacefully quiet. Harry’s down duvet had kept her warm while she was sleeping and the soft cotton of her covers was gentle against her skin. She sighed, tapping around under her pillow to find her phone and check the time. It was only nine in the morning, and despite Harry having gone to sleep much closer to sunrise than to sunset, she felt rested. Assured. 

She got up, put some clothes on and went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Niall would appreciate a good omelette and some toast on a Sunday morning. And after how she’d cared for Harry a couple weeks ago, it was the least she could do. 

As expected, the scents of a warm breakfast being prepared made Niall poke her head into the kitchen and soon enough they were chatting at the kitchen table, tummies full and mugs of tea warming their hands. 

Harry made sure to keep their conversation light, excusing herself from the table before her flatmate could ask what was up. Niall seemed happy with her breakfast and knew Harry enough to let her go if she didn’t want to talk about something yet. The thing was, that Harry had no idea if she could talk about this to Niall at all... 

It hadn’t taken long to figure out that the symbols on the slip of paper were called runes. But when she tried to look up the poem itself on Google last night, she hadn’t found anything, so it must’ve been a personal...thing...spell? Even thinking the word sent shivers down Harry’s spine. A search for the name Seiðr came up with decisively better answers. Unlike what Harry had first assumed, Seiðr wasn’t a person, or even a god or goddess...It was a practice. It was magick. (And this was apparently the preferred spelling of that word by its practitioners.) And by doing what she had done last night, Harry was a...witch. A sorceress. Whatever. 

After an onslaught of different phrases and keywords, the search engine had popped up with useful information about the runes the poem was written in as well. They were Anglo-Saxon, which was a departure from the Nordic roots of Seiðr, but only in so much as they were the symbols adapted for use on the British Isles at some point in time. So Harry knew how to read Anglo-Saxon runes for some reason. Well, most likely because they were connected to her...magick?

Another thing she’d found out, and without the help of the internet, was quite convenient, actually. She thought she would have to blow out the candles one by one and air out her room before she could sleep, but when she blew out the one on her desk, all the other ones went out as well. And the only smoke left in her room was from the wick of the one candle she’d blown out. How practical! 

As Harry stared at the piece of paper that had led her to all these discoveries and tried to wrap her head around them, she felt something within herself settle. She’d always been a bit anxious, but that was normal, right? Not having had a secure upbringing and never quite fitting in would do that to you, right? Maybe. But this...magick, it calmed her down, a pleasant weight on her chest, a warm coat wrapped around her body... 

The coat! That was it! Mrs. Wit had said they were new arrivals...Maybe she could tell Harry where to find the previous owner! Surely, if they had left their own spell in the pocket, they would be able to help Harry figure out what was going on. An actual witch definitely knew more about all of this than Google. 

So Harry grabbed her new coat and went back to Wit’s End. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

The chimes above the door banged together as Harry breathlessly stumbled into the shop. Mrs. Wit’s daughter was sitting behind the counter with a mug of tea and the same tattered graphic novel from the day before. She jumped up when Harry entered and put on a smile. 

“Hi.” She did a small wave with her hand. “Harriet, right? How can I help you?” Harry noticed her trying to inconspicuously look behind her to see if she was alone. She seemed a bit disappointed it was just Harry, but to her credit, her smile seemed genuine nonetheless.

“Hi, um…” 

“Liam.” 

“Right! Liam. Sorry.” Harry tried to gather her thoughts. “Uh, okay...I found something in the pockets of this coat I bought yesterday, right? And your mum said it was a new arrival so I was wondering if maybe you could point me in the direction of the previous owner...So I can return their...thing?”

“Oh.” Liam furrowed her bushy brows. “Hm, we do have a thing for donors to fill out, but there’s no requirement. I may have to ask mum who brought it in, she knows everybody better.” 

“Would you mind looking to see if you’ve got any info?” Harry leaned toward a contemplative Liam. 

“May I ask what you found?” Liam must’ve noticed how desperate she sounded. 

“Um.” Harry could feel herself getting flustered. “I think it’s quite personal...It’s a note of a lovely poem and it seems quite sentimental.” There, she didn’t even have to lie. Liam’s big brown eyes would’ve been hard to look into while lying.

“Ah.” Liam touched her chest affectedly. “Now that’s a lovely cause.” She ducked under the counter and shuffled some things around before emerging with a binder labeled ‘Donor Information.’

“Thank you so much.”

“Let’s see…” Liam started flipping through the pages, tilting the binder away from Harry, probably to protect people’s privacy. “Yes! I think the coat must’ve come in with this stuff...And there’s a phone number!”

“Yes!” Harry grinned. “Perfect! Liam, you are an angel!” The young woman behind the counter blushed as she punched the number into the old-timey landline phone next to the cash register. She talked to a quiet voice on the other side of the line for a minute, explaining the situation and scribbling something on a post-it note before hanging up. 

“She said to give you her home address,” Liam explained with a knowing smirk. “Almost sounded like she’d left it on purpose, hoping somebody would be kind enough to bring it back.”

“Well, Kindness is my middle name,” Harry giggled, excitedly pocketing the note Liam handed her. 

“Good luck!” Liam called after her as she left Wit’s End to find whoever had written the note.

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

Harry fumbled with the two pieces of paper in her coat pocket, staring out the window of the regional bus she’d hopped on half an hour ago. They had already passed the Pier and the Marina and were just moving past the Windmill to Harry’s stop, White Horse. From there it was another fifteen minute walk to get to the cliffs. 

Harry had put the address into the maps app that came with her phone first, but didn’t quite trust that somebody would live in a lone house on the cliffs outside of Rottingdean, so she put it into Google Maps and was surprised to find the same results. She had figured it may take her a while to find out how to get there, so she’d grabbed some tea and a couple croissants from Costa while she was connected to their Wi-Fi. 

Hopefully the person hadn’t sent her out into the middle of nowhere for nothing. And hopefully they liked croissants. 

Harry thanked the bus driver as she hopped off and confidently walked in the direction of the sea. At least it couldn’t be that hard to find if it was on the edge of the cliffs. The humid November wind whipped her hair around and prickled on her cheeks, but at least she had a proper coat now that kept the rest of her body warm. 

Once she reached the edge above the Undercliff Walk, Harry looked out over the sea, noting that the heavy fog of the morning was slowly starting to lift, singular rays of sunshine poking their way through the clouds. She breathed in and manifested positive thoughts as she turned left to walk along the shoreline until she would eventually be met with a house. Or Rottingdean, if she was unlucky. Deep down she had a gut feeling that this was going to turn out okay, though. Everything about the last couple days seemed deliberate, like somehow it was meant to happen exactly like it had. 

Eventually, Harry reached a gathering of trees, not quite big enough to be a forest. She hadn’t considered that the house may not just stand freely on the cliffside, but it made sense to her as she walked along an overgrown path for about a minute until she stepped out from the trees into a perfect half-circle of a clearing with a small house in the middle. 

The slightly crooked chimney was spitting out tufts of smoke and Harry cautiously approached what looked like the entrance. Bushes with plump red and yellow berries were on either side of the front steps. It looked like the house was made out of hand-carved stones, giving it a rugged but charming exterior. As Harry approached, she noticed little bits of moss and ivy climbing up the sides, which made the whole place look that much...wilder, more natural – witchier! 

Just when Harry snorted out a tiny laugh at her own thought, a crow landed in front of her feet and tilted its head, examining her with a piercing glare. It looked like it was contemplating something, so Harry smiled politely and tried walking around it, but it hopped in her way again. 

Hm. Harry tilted her head the same way and tried to decipher the message those intelligent eyes were trying to convey. The bird had a small piece of blue cloth tied around its foot...Maybe it belonged to the woman living in this wondrous house?

“What do you want from me, little lad? Or lass?” She crouched down and the bird hopped closer to her. For a moment, Harry was afraid it would try to peck at her eyes or something, but her instinct told her to slowly reach out her hand. Lo and behold, the bird jumped onto her arm! Harry really had to withstand the urge to screech in surprise, but the crow seemed unfazed. It turned its head towards the house and waited for Harry to walk on, lightly pecking at the seam of her sleeve. 

Harry carefully walked up the steps and knocked on the wooden door with her crow-less hand. A few seconds later, the door swung open to reveal the inside of the house, but nobody was in sight. Strange. Harry carefully stepped inside. 

“Hello?” she asked, closing the door behind her so as not to let out the pleasant heat she was now surrounded in. It smelled like fire and lavender and tea, which was a wonderful combination. There was no response but the whistling of a kettle coming from her left so Harry carefully walked towards the sound. 

“I don’t mean to intrude,” she said as she entered the room, where a woman was bent over, lifting a heavy looking kettle from a hook above the fire with a rod. “I’m here to give back what you left in the pockets of this coat I got at Wit’s End?” 

“You were quick,” a light voice said, still turned away and preparing tea on the counter. “Have a seat. I’ve got jam for the croissants, I hope that’s fine.” 

“You...the…” Harry stuttered as she pulled out one of the chairs from the small round table by the window. How did she know about the croissants? The crow on her arm nipped at her shoulder before jumping up on it as Harry sat down, shaking her head at her own question. “Jam sounds good.”

“Lovely,” the witch said, turning around with two mugs of tea in her hands. 

She was wearing wide legged trousers that hugged her hips just right and a loose blouse with a beautiful lace collar, all in black. Her soft brown hair was twisted up on the back of her head and fixed with a couple ornate sticks. She looked breathtaking, but in a way that wasn’t trying hard at all. Harry blinked at her as she sat down opposite her.

“I see you’ve met Oli.” The witch smiled, a friendly spark in her blue eyes. 

“He did the security check before he let me in,” Harry joked, pulling one of the mugs on the table towards herself to warm her hands. 

“Good boy.” The witch nodded towards her bird, throwing him a tiny piece of apple that miraculously appeared in her hand. “He seems to like you. Normally he doesn’t let people up to the door so easily.” 

“I’m honored.”

“Hi, Honored. I’m Louise.”

Harry honked out a laugh that startled the crow on her shoulder into flying off and settling on the curtain rod above their heads with a tut. “That was horrible,” she giggled, briefly looking up. “Sorry to startle you, Oli. I’m Harry.” 

“Do you know why you’re really here, Harry?” Louise asked. 

“I’m not entirely sure,” Harry admitted. “But I was hoping you could help me figure some stuff out…”

“What kind of stuff?” It almost looked like Louise’s eyes were cast in a shadow as she stared Harry down intensely. 

“Um.” Harry shifted. “I read your poem, or spell, or whatever...And I didn’t even know I could read runes! At first I had no idea they were runes. And, anyway, then my entire room lit up – like every single candle I own, not an actual fire. Well, it was real fire, but just the wicks of my candles – and I freaked out for a bit but then I googled some things and...now I’m here.” Harry took a long overdue breath, sheepishly looking up at Louise’s bemused face. 

“All your candles lit up?” she asked, taking a sip of tea. 

“Mm-hm,” Harry hummed, trying to prevent another wall of words from tumbling out her mouth. 

“And you had no idea what you were doing? At all?” 

Harry shook her head. 

“Very good!” Louise looked pleased. “That’s impressive. Are you sure you’ve never done magick before?” 

“Uh.” Harry thought for a bit. “Not intentionally,” she said eventually. 

“So you think maybe you’ve done it unintentionally?” 

“Well...Things seem to happen around me, sometimes,” Harry explained. “Electronics hate me, the lights in my office go out regularly to the point where the maintenance staff knows me by name...And the other week my flatmate said I was in the bath for an hour and the water hadn’t turned cold at all.” 

Louise quirked an eyebrow at the bath story. “That seems nice. Maybe we can figure out how you did that so I can do it too…” 

“Or…”

“Or?”

“Nevermind,” Harry bit her lip and looked down at her backpack on the floor. “The croissants!” 

“Mm-hm.” Louise tried to hide her smile. “The croissants.” She turned towards her kitchen and raised a hand, beckoning the jar of homemade jam that floated out the cabinet towards herself with a finger, along with two small plates and butter knives. 

“Wow,” Harry breathed, staring at the jam as it softly landed on the table. “Do you think I might be able to do that as well?” 

“Sure.” She reached into the paper bag Harry had pulled out of her rucksack and started spreading jam on the tip of her croissant. “You may have to practice for a while though, especially for non-verbal spells. Seems like you’ll get the hang of it quickly though, if reading my little spell had such a big impact already.” 

Harry felt hot all over, her cheeks burning, but she was noticeably preening under the compliment. 

“You look hot,” Louise said, licking jam from the tip off one of her slender fingers and Harry bit her lip again, feeling her chest tighten under all the attention she was getting. “Maybe you should take your coat off,” Louise finished with a wink.

Harry fumbled to get the coat off and clumsily draped it over the back of her chair, her blush burning her cheeks. 

“So...” Louise said after they’d eaten in silence for a while, staring at each other. Harry felt like a schoolgirl again, blushing at the slightest attention any girl was giving her and constantly fighting the urge to hide her face behind her curls. 

“Yeah?” She sounded breathless, even to herself. She really needed to get a grip – she was a grown woman for Christ’s sake! 

“Have you got any questions before we try some spells?”

“Um.” Harry thought for a bit. “Was the fact that all the candles went out when I extinguished the flame of one, part of what you wrote down?” 

“Good question.” Louise tilted her head to the side. “You’ve got the spell with you, right? Let me have a look again.” 

Harry pulled the note from her pocket and they examined it for a few seconds. 

“Nothing about extinguishing things here,” she mused. “It also depends on what kind of magick is prevalent inside you, but my guess is that your strong suit is probably empirical magick.”

“What does that mean? What other types of...it are there?” Harry watched one sculpted eyebrow raise in challenge. 

“If you’re going to be a sorceress, you might as well get comfortable using words like spell and magick quickly,” Louise pointed out. 

“Hm.” Harry looked down and took a breath. “Okay. What other kinds of magick are there?” 

“Empirical magick is the science of changing your environment at will – conjuring and transmuting things – like the candles you lit or me not being arsed to get up and grab plates,” Louise explained. “I’m a Seer, which is why I knew you were going to bring croissants. I also have a strong streak of intuitive magick in me, which is why I knew years ago that I should buy a coat that was too big on me, and why I knew to bring it to Mrs. Wit’s shop last week.” 

“I think I may have that as well?” Harry interrupted. “Sometimes I get restless if I don’t follow my gut. I get urges to buy snacks before people spontaneously come over and I’ve learned to just...trust that.” 

“See, you’re already in tune with that side of yourself.” Louise smiled. “That’s good. Every sorceress carries a bit of every type of magick within herself, some are just more prevalent and others need to be learned and trained for a long time.” 

“I don’t think I’m a Seer though.” Harry frowned. “I never have precognitions.”

“We can’t have it all from the start, darling,” Louise winked. “Now where were we...Evocation, conjuration, the sight...We could try conjuring magick, like the piece of apple I threw at Oli before.” Harry had almost forgotten about the bird but he let out a loud squawk at the mention of apples and Louise rolled her eyes. “You wanna try conjuring some snacks for my familiar?”

“Is that what he is?” Harry asked excitedly. “Do you think I could have one as well?” 

“I don’t know,” Louise said honestly, dampening Harry’s eagerness. “Most familiars choose who they want to serve, find their sorceress. I’ve heard of some cases of conjuring them through a ritual, but I’d have to look that up. Mostly they just appear when a young sorceress starts developing her powers...Oli’s been with me since I was six.” 

“So I might not have one?”

“You might not...or maybe it just hasn’t found you yet because you haven’t extensively used your powers.” Louise reached a hand across the table to pat Harry’s. “How about that apple?” Oli flew down onto the table and hopped around excitedly, rubbing his beak against Harry’s hand. 

“How do I do it?” Harry asked, suddenly terrified she’d only imagined everything and wasn’t a witch – sorceress – after all. Louise conjured a fountain pen and scribbled runes onto the back of the note still on the table. 

“For this one, saying the words won’t be enough,” she said as she added the last line to her spell. “Close your eyes for a bit, let yourself feel your magick, visualize it...Is it running through your veins? Is it strands of fine thread, woven into your being? Is it beating within you, in time with your heart?” She let her voice fade out in a whisper. 

Harry had dutifully closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair, trying to find something she’d buried long ago. She tried to feel what was inside of her, finding rays of light in her head and following them down her throat, leaning her head back and swallowing. The light led her to her heart, breaking through years and years of neglect with each breath she took and tearing its way through every inch of her body. First it filled out her torso, then it lit the path down her arms to the very tips of her fingers, casting brightness down the sides of her hips, hugging the love handles she could never get rid of and meeting again in the center as she let her legs fall apart with a heavy sigh. Wherever the light went, it seemed to multiply, shining bright in every inch of her body, down her legs right to her pinky toes. 

Her breathing was heavy and her back arched, limbs hanging loosely off to the side. There was nothing more certain in the world than the existence of magick. Nothing more wonderful or more beautiful. And Harry was part of it, could feel it thrumming in her chest and head and hands. She was like a guitar string, taut tight for years before she finally let the notes within her play. 

A melody called out to her and she held onto it, wondering where the raspy voice was going to take her. 

“...darling, you found it,” the voice said. “Now just follow me back to here and now, okay? Just come back to me and we’ll figure everything out…” And Harry believed it, felt her chest sink back down and her blinding thoughts subside to a deep hum close to the surface. She opened her eyes to see Louise holding her hand as she crouched next to her. 

“Hi.” 

“Welcome back.” The other sorceress smiled up at her and squeezed her hand. “Hold on to what you just found, never let it go.” 

“Never,” Harry promised, and squeezed Louise’s hand right back. 

“Good. Now read the words I wrote and envision the apple appearing in your hand.” 

_“Fruit of life,_

_Come to light,_

_Bring forth your sweetest bite.”_

Harry read from the runes and she closed her eyes again repeating the words, opening her palm and picturing the light flowing from her heart to her hand to form a perfect red apple. She held her breath before opening one eye to see if it had worked. 

“Yes!” she exclaimed, closing her fingers around the apple in her hand. 

“You did it on the first try!” Louise grinned, still holding her hand. 

“Oh my God.” 

Oli clicked his beak and started pecking at the table. 

“Yes, you impatient creature,” Louise chided, pulling a small knife from a pocket on her belt and handing it to Harry. She sat back down across the table.

“Let’s see what it tastes like, Oli,” Harry said. “This will be the ultimate test.” She cut a small piece out of the fruit and put it down in front of the bird, who promptly devoured it and nodded its little head in approval. 

“You seem to have passed with flying colours.” 

“Wow,” Harry grinned across the table. “I _made_ an apple. How sick is that?” 

“Very sick,” Louise determined. “Now let’s see what else you can do…”

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

That night, Harry fell into her bed, bone-tired but happier than she’d been in...maybe ever? She didn’t have as much luck with other types of magic as with conjuration. She didn’t see anything at all when Louise showed her a beautiful crystal ball and had a hard time with the protective spell Louise had shown her. They’d stood outside in the storm that had come in from up north and Harry only managed to hold off the rain from her face, while Louise went back in completely dry. 

She’d been right that Harry’s talents lay more in the empirical or practical types of magick. She had managed another conjuration and then fashioned the stone she’d made appear into a heart-shaped pendant through a transmutative spell. 

The last thing they’d tried was an illusion. Louise had wanted her to cast the image of a wall between the two of them, but Harry had kept conjuring bricks instead. When she kicked against a pile of them in frustration and hurt her foot, Louise called their experiments off for the day. She applied a tincture to Harry’s foot to alleviate the pain and when Harry started asking questions about herbology, she called her grasshopper and told her to have patience. 

Now, Harry was in her room, flipping through a book her new “Miyagi” had given her and wondering what her life had turned into. Now that she had a vague understanding of what her powers were, she hoped she could use the copy machine at the office without breaking it. And maybe the lights in her office would stay on for once? Well, if not, she at least knew how to conjure a flame... 

The following week flew by in a haze of begrudgingly going to work and studying every word in the book Louise had given her. There was so much to be learned and so many skills to be honed! Harry found herself locked in her room most evenings, reading and trying out different beginner’s spells, wiping sweat from her brow before sneaking out to the shower when she could hear Niall’s uneven breath hitching in her sleep. By the end of the work week even her thickest concealer couldn’t quite hide the dark circles under her eyes and she had to lock the door to her office to take a half hour nap so she could finish her tasks for the day. 

Harry dragged herself home and went straight for her bedroom, like she’d done the past few days. 

“Nuh-uh, missy!” Niall grabbed Harry’s arm as she tried to rush by the kitchen. “I don’t know what the hell you’ve been doing all week, but I haven’t seen you eat a single bite of food and quite frankly, you look like shit.” 

Harry opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again, when she saw the determined look in her best friend’s eyes. It was true, she’d been a terrible recluse all week. 

“That’s what I thought,” Niall muttered, walking into the kitchen to stir something in a pot. 

“I can’t explain it,” Harry admitted. The book said she wasn’t allowed to tell any non-magical person about her powers unless her coven leader allowed it. And she had no idea if she even belonged to a coven, nevermind a leader she could ask for permission. 

“Harry,” Niall said, turning around with a sigh. “I know you like to mull things over alone for a while before you talk about them with somebody...but I’m worried. You’ve been acting like a shell of yourself for a week, locking yourself in your room and only coming out to go to work.” She stirred the pot one more time before turning off the heat. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Harry buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what to tell you.” 

“Are you...taking drugs?”

“What?” She straightened in her seat and searched Niall’s face to see if she was serious. She could feel the crease forming between her eyebrows as she thought...It wasn’t like that didn’t make sense with her behavior, but Harry hadn’t considered that her secrecy could lead to such a drastic conclusion. “I’m not. I promise.” 

“Okay.” Niall stared at her for a while. “I believe you.” 

“But I can’t tell you what it is.” 

“Take your time. At some point you will have to.” 

“Hm.” Harry leaned forward, crossing her arms on the kitchen table and resting her head on them. She fell asleep almost immediately. Niall had to wake her up for dinner and help her take her makeup off before she stumbled to her room. The last thought she had as she buried herself under her down duvet for the night was that she really needed to figure out what she could tell Niall and Zayn. And that she couldn’t wait to get out to the cliffs the next morning to discover more about her magick. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

“You’re early,” Louise yawned. She’d opened the door remotely, just like last time, and Harry cautiously walked to the kitchen. She found her fellow sorceress sitting on a bench by the fire, dressed in a soft knitted jumper and leggings. Her hair was down and frizzy towards the ends as if she hadn’t brushed it yet. She looked every bit as breathtaking as the week prior and Harry wondered how she was going to deal with this crush, when Louise was supposed to be her new mentor figure. 

“Is that your morning frown or are you just happy to see me?” Harry giggled, setting down the bag of chocolate muffins she’d brought for breakfast. 

“You know we could just...conjure muffins, right?” Louise’s voice was rough and raspy with sleep and Harry wanted to melt into the floor. 

“Yes, but we need to support local businesses, Lou,” Harry tutted, noticing the pleased smile on Louise’s face at the nickname that had slipped out. “What’s the use in working forty hours a week if I don’t spend the money?” 

“You don’t technically have to do that,” Louise pointed out, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand. “Many of us do, just to appear normal and keep the guise up, but you could also...not.” 

“Build a house on the cliffs and live peacefully until the end of my days?” Harry smiled at the thought. 

“Something like that,” Louise laughed. “But I’d like to point out that I do work. I do readings, fix ailments and help people cope with heartbreak, loss, all that…”

“So...Classic witch things?” Harry sat down on the bench, straddling it so she could face Lou.

“It’s the family business.” She shrugged. “Someone’s gotta do it.” 

“Tell me about your family,” Harry pleaded, watching her vis-à-vis tense a little. “I never got to meet mine.” 

“Well…” After a little bit of silence, a smile crossed her face. “I’ve got four little sisters. All of them absolute menaces, but in the best way possible. The youngest are sixteen now. They all live up north with my grandparents.”

“What about your parents?”

“Mum passed away a couple years ago.” She swallowed. “About a year after I left to start my own life down here. She was a wonderful woman, taught me everything I know. She always said to pay attention because I would someday need to teach everything to somebody else. I always thought she meant I’d have kids, which I didn’t think would happen since I’m...y’know…” She made a vague gesture with her hands, making Harry laugh.

“Yeah...I know,” Harry sighed, taking a bite of her muffin and hugging her knees with her feet up on the bench. 

“Now I think she might’ve meant you,” Lou admitted. “Mum was a gifted Seer. And she always told me that twenty-eight would be my year.” For the first time since Harry had met her, she looked a bit shy. “It seems like everything is falling into place.” 

“Do you ever get the feeling that some things seem unnecessarily convoluted, but they happen exactly the way they’re meant to happen?” Harry asked, absent-mindedly floating the teapot and a cup over to herself. 

“Harry!” Lou exclaimed. “You just did a non-verbal spell!” She grinned brightly. The desire to climb into the crinkles by Louise’s eyes and make herself a home there was so overwhelming, that Harry almost didn’t understand what she’d said.

“I’ve been practicing…” Harry looked down, licking chocolate from her thumb. “Every night.” 

“That’s why you look so tired.” Louise reached out a hand to grab Harry’s chin and make her look up. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you look like shit, love.” 

“Thanks.” Harry frowned, trying to turn her head away once more. 

“Babe,” Lou pleaded and the pet name made Harry’s heart melt a bit at the edges. “You don’t have to catch up with twenty years of experience in a week. There’s plenty of time, and you’re already doing so well.” 

“Am I?” Harry questioned. “I feel like I know nothing. I don’t even know if I have a coven or a coven leader that I could ask about the secrecy deal.” 

“What about it?” Louise dropped her hand and pulled her leg up, turning to listen. 

“My best friend and flatmate thinks I’m a drug addict because I’ve been locking myself in my bedroom for a week,” Harry sighed. “She’s the only person close to a family I have. I really don’t want to lose her over this, but according to the book you gave me, I’m not allowed to tell anybody unless I have explicit permission.” Harry could feel herself well up, and Lou’s hand wandered back up to her cheek, stroking it softly. 

“What if I told you that I can initiate you into my coven?” she asked in a soft voice. 

“You’re a coven leader?” Harry said, eyes still glossed over, leaning her face into the comfort of Louise’s palm. 

“You make it sound like such a big deal. There’s only like four of us and other than the induction rituals most of what we do are game nights every couple weeks,” she laughed.

“But you’re the leader?” Harry had to be sure before she could hope to resolve her biggest problem at the moment.

“I am,” Louise smiled warmly. “And if I confer with the Grand Mistress of the South I can grant you permission to tell your friend what’s going on. Provided you are a witch under my authority.”

“You…” Harry felt a tear slip out of her eye as she smiled. “You are the most magnificent woman I have ever met.” 

“Stop it,” Lou giggled, wiping the tear from Harry’s cheek. “You’re making me think you’re into me.” 

“What if I am?” Harry asked, suddenly serious. If she could shoot her shot now, why not? Lou smiled at her, mirroring Harry’s straddle to the bench so her entire body was facing her. They observed each other for a long moment before Harry reached out to take her hand. 

“Twenty-eight could absolutely be my year,” Louise whispered before leaning in. Their lips met in a sweet kiss and when Louise tried drawing back, Harry simply slid forward on the bench and pulled her back in. They savoured the moment, only slowly opening their mouths, tongues tentatively meeting in the middle. It tasted like tea and chocolate, mixing into one delicious, addicting blend. Harry lightly bit down on Lou’s lip and it conjured the most beautiful little growl from within her throat. She ran her hands up Harry’s thighs and grabbed them, pulling her closer until Harry could link her feet behind her back and everything lit up in brightness. 

It wasn’t unlike the last time she was here, somehow her magick was shining so, so close to the surface and she didn’t know how she had ever kissed anybody before without letting herself go like this...Louise’s hands wandered over Harry’s back, her shoulders, her hips and wherever they went Harry could feel her magick following, being pulled. It was exhilarating. Her head was spinning, whirring with magick and light. She leaned her head back with a sigh, causing Lou to start kissing and biting down the column of her neck. 

Harry felt like her whole world was tilted off its axis. Her eyes shut. Everything around her drenched in magick. Everywhere Louise touched her, kissed her, she felt like her powers were drawn out and let free. 

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she pressed even further forward and grabbed Louise’s face, pulling her back into a fevered kiss. 

Until somebody loudly cleared their throat and startled them hard enough to make Harry lose her balance. Louise caught her with both hands secured on Harry’s hips. The magick that had flowed so close to the surface and outside her body suddenly retracted and a multitude of small objects fell to the floor. Huh? Harry looked down to see tea spoons, cups and trinkets strewn all over. 

“What the fuck?!” a familiar voice asked. Harry’s head whipped up to see Zayn stand in the kitchen door. 

“Zayn?” she asked, slowly pulling back from the compromising position they’d been surprised in. 

“You know each other?” Louise asked, looking between them and reaching for Harry’s hand when they were sitting next to each other instead of practically on top of each other. 

“Yeah,” Zayn said with furrowed brows. “Lou, you idiot! What are you _doing?”_

“Um…” Louise chuckled a bit. “What did it look like?” 

“What if the Gr...What if the GM finds out?” Zayn started pacing between the door and the kitchen counter. “What would Jade, Perrie and I do? None of us are qualified to take over for you.”

“Zayn,” Harry interjected. “It’s okay.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about Harry,” Zayn said dismissively.

“Hey!” Lou cut in. 

“No, Lou,” Harry interrupted before it could escalate. She bit her lip in thought. “I don’t know what I’m talking about, but that’s exactly why I’m here, Zaynie. Lou is teaching me.” 

“Teaching you what?” Zayn’s voice was at least an octave higher than usual. Harry had never seen her this troubled. “How to get denounced and cast out? How could you lose control like that, Lou? She fucking saw shit floating all over the place, we can’t just undo that.” 

“I didn’t lose control,” Louise said, squaring her shoulders. “If you took a breath and took a damn second to think, perhaps you could figure it out.” 

Zayn stared at her, stopping her pacing and then slowly looking at Harry, who was playing with the hem of her jumper. 

“You got anything to tell me, Harriet?” she asked after a while, her stormy expression having softened. 

“Uh, well…” Harry cleared her throat. “In my defence, I only found out like a week ago. But, um, that was me? I think? The floating things. I thought it was only a feeling, I had no idea that could happen.” 

“You?” Zayn asked. “My only non-magical, human friend. Of course.” Then she started laughing, nearly hysterically. 

“Are you okay, Z?” Louise asked, looking between them. “D’you want a cuppa? We were just about to start practicing with Harry, you might be able to help.” 

Zayn walked over to the kitchen table and sat down backwards on a chair. “Practicing. Is that what we’re calling it now? I’m not having a threesome with you.” 

Harry raised her eyebrows. “You literally interrupted our first kiss,” she accused with a pout. 

“Ah, young love. So innocent.” Zayn rolled her eyes. She picked up a chipped teacup from the floor and floated the pot over towards herself. With a few words murmured under her breath, she mended the cup and poured herself some tea. “So. What’s the tea on Harriet?” 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

A couple weeks later, they were walking to Zayn’s flat together for Harry’s first coven game night. She wasn’t technically allowed to participate in coven activities yet, but Lou said it was okay. She was going to have her induction ceremony shortly before Christmas – during the solstice. It was unusual for a sorceress to be inducted so quickly after her powers had manifested, but Harry needed to tell Niall about her secret sooner rather than later. She felt their sisterhood being torn apart with every lie she told. And Lou had said with enough practice she should be ready for the induction by December twenty-first. Hopefully she was right. 

“How is Niall dealing?” Louise asked, squeezing Harry’s hand in hers. 

“She’s still not convinced I’m okay, but you were right, having a more normal sleep schedule helped a bit,” Harry admitted. “And she was happy I was going to hang out with Zayn, since I could finally tell her where I was actually going. She knows my liar voice too well…” Harry took a long pause. “Um, you know, I was considering just telling her I’ve got a girlfriend…”

“Have you?” Lou smirked. 

“I don’t know,” Harry laughed. “You tell me?” She looked up from beneath her eyelashes sheepishly.

“What a way to ask a woman to go steady...But the answer is yes,” Louise leaned over and kissed Harry’s cheek. “Obviously.” 

“Okay,” Harry smiled, reciprocating the kiss. “You’ll have to meet the family soon. Niall won’t let it rest, I know her.” 

“I’m sure we can convince her of our love,” Lou laughed. “I’m really good at conjuring baked goods. And baked goods are the way to any woman’s heart.” 

“They certainly are to Niall’s.” 

Just as they turned into Zayn’s street, Harry noticed a small black cat sitting on the pavement, looking right at them. 

“Aww.” Harry crouched down and offered her hand. “Who left you out here in the cold, kitten?” The cat looked at her for a moment before getting up and very deliberately walking over to her. It rubbed its face against her palm and immediately started purring. Harry pet it for a little while and smiled up at Louise. 

“The little lad seems to like you,” she said softly. “But Perrie will lose her shit if we’re late, love.” 

Harry sighed, getting up. “I guess we have to go now, kitty.” They started walking down the street and the cat kept pace with them, weaving between Harry’s legs and constantly meowing up at her in an offended tone. 

“Somebody’s attracting a lot of pussy,” Lou chuckled. 

“Shut up. What am I supposed to do with her?” 

“Her?” 

“Or him, I guess,” Harry amended, but something told her that her first instinct was right. The cat meowed again. They were now in front of Zayn’s building and Harry looked down at the adorable kitten in front of her. It hopped up the steps and sat, eyes fixed on Harry. “You can’t come in with us, Thyra,” Harry explained patiently and the cat's intelligent eyes blinked up at her. 

“What did you just call it?” Louise asked, suddenly an excited tilt to her voice. 

“Um, kitty?” 

“No.” Lou shook her head, crouching down next to Harry. “You had a name for her. A Norse name.” 

“That’s weird.” Harry pursed her lips in thought. She looked back at the cat, which was clawing at the rug in front of the door impatiently. 

“I think you’ve just met your familiar.” Lou grinned. “And she’s already told you her name.” 

“Shame I forgot it immediately,” Harry said around her index finger, gnawing at it nervously. “I’m sorry, kitty. Can you tell me your name again?” The cat stopped her pawing at the rug and sat down, her nose high up in the air. 

_“My name is Thyra,”_ Harry heard a clear voice in her head. _“I have been looking for you, Harriet.”_ Harry just stared, her jaw going slack. 

“Hi, Thyra,” she whispered. “I’m sorry you had such a hard time finding me.”

 _“All is forgiven and forgotten. We are united now.”_

“Wow.” Harry reached out a hand to stroke over Thyra’s head. “Can we take her with us?” 

“We can ask Z over the intercom?” Lou suggested. 

“Please,” Harry said, completely fascinated with the beautiful cat in front of her. Lou pressed the button on the intercom.

“You’re late,” a voice Harry had never heard before said through the subpar speaker. 

“Yes, Perrie,” Louise sighed. “Harry’s familiar just found her.” An excited shriek came through the crackling speaker. 

“What is it? A rabbit? A bird? Another crow? That would be some soulmate shit. Oh, is it a cat? A rat? A toad?” Perrie rattled off. 

“Can you ask Zayn if she can bring it up?” Louise interrupted. 

“Boo. You’re no fun.” With that, Perrie hung up. 

“Is she going to ask?” Harry opened her arms and Thyra happily jumped up into them so her sorceress could stand up. 

“Yes, she’s just miffed she won’t be the first one to know.” As soon as she had finished, the speaker crackled again. 

“All three of you can come up,” Zayn announced, and hit the buzzer. 

“I can’t believe you got a cat,” Jade sighed for the fifth time this evening. 

“Neither can I,” Harry answered, again. “She’s so pretty. And so polite.” 

“And probably very powerful,” Zayn mused. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” She grinned. “You said she spoke to you in full sentences?” 

“A couple.” Harry nodded. 

“That’s sick,” Perrie said, setting down everyone’s refills on the living room table. “Sif can only do singular words.” 

“Is Sif a cat as well?” Harry wondered. “Does everyone have a familiar?”

“Sif’s a rabbit,” Perrie answered. 

“She’s adorable,” Jade assured Harry. “I have my little Bo, he’s a tit.” She smiled despite the slight insult.

“No need to be mean,” Harry frowned, making everybody around her laugh. 

“Not that kind of tit! He’s a bird!” Jade got out between laughs and Harry shook her head at herself, laughing along. 

“I have Óleifr, as you know,” Louise said, when everybody had calmed down. 

“Is that his full name? That’s beautiful.” She turned to Zayn. “I never noticed a pet around you.”

“Astrid’s pretty good at hiding.” Zayn smiled, getting up and walking over to the window. She whistled out into the night and a few seconds later a beautiful white pigeon flew in, landing on Zayn’s arm. 

“She’s stunning.” 

“And she knows,” Zayn chuckled. “That’s why her name is Astrid. Means beautiful and loved.” 

“What does Thyra mean?” Harry wondered, looking down at the cat in her lap, while Zayn fed her bird a blueberry. 

_“Helpful,”_ Thyra said, her voice soft in Harry’s head. 

“Should I look it up?” Louise offered, reaching into her pocket. 

“No.” Harry shook her head. “Means ‘helpful’, she just told me.” An impressed murmur arose from the group. “See how impressed they all are with you? You’re such a good kitty.” Harry gave her familiar some scritches between her ears. 

“She must be an ancient spirit,” Louise said. “Mum always said that powerful familiar spirits are drawn to young witches in need. She was probably looking for you for ages.” 

Thyra meowed loudly before yawning and settling her head on her paws. 

“Now that Thyra’s ended our audience with her,” Zayn chuckled, feeding Astrid another blueberry before letting her out the window again. “Let’s play some games, shall we?”

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of preparing and waiting, the day of the solstice arrived.

Harry opened her eyes to Thyra sitting on her chest and meowing loudly. The cat jumped off and walked towards the door, looking back at Harry, as if she couldn’t believe Harry wasn’t rushing to feed her immediately. 

“Oh, give me a second,” Harry groaned. “Today’s the big day. Don’t I deserve to sleep in?” The familiar didn’t even bother answering, she just turned her back to Harry and sat down in front of the door. A clear no. “Jeez, gimme the cold shoulder, why don’t you?” 

As Harry put on some comfy clothes and pulled her hair up into a bun, she wondered how she had gone from being a regular woman with an office job in her late twenties, tragically single and with an aversion to electronics, to leading a secret double life as a witch with a familiar and a witch girlfriend, who was inducting her into her coven at midnight of the longest night of the year. 

She opened the door and Thyra ran out into the kitchen lightning fast. Harry was unsurprised to find her playing with her empty dish and meowing as if she was in painstaking agony. 

The answer to her previous reminiscing came to her when she opened a fresh can of tuna. It had all started with her coat. The need for a singular piece of clothing had triggered the chain of events that had resulted in her ending up here. And some people say fashion can’t change lives. 

“Morning,” Niall yawned, leaning down to stroke over Thyra’s back in passing. The cat was still meowing at Harry’s feet.

“Morning.” Harry smiled, sipping her scalding hot tea in one hand while she filled Thyra’s water bowl with the other. Niall grabbed the tin of ground coffee from the cabinet.

“What are your plans for the day?” Niall asked, filling the bottom of the espresso maker with water before adding the coffee above the filter and screwing on the top. 

“I have a book I want to finish today and I’m seeing Lou in the evening.” 

“That’s nice,” Niall smiled. “I still can’t believe I confused the symptoms of the first couple weeks of a budding love affair with a drug addiction.” They laughed. 

“To be fair, I am seriously addicted to her.” Harry placed Thyra’s freshly filled water dish on her little tray and put it down so her cat would stop whining. 

“That woman must seriously know what she’s doing,” Niall said into the fridge as she took out a carton of milk. “I’ve never seen you so relaxed and...sated. Not once in the last thirteen years.”

“Well…” Harry smirked. “I can’t say I have any complaints. She unlocked unforeseen levels of pleasure...It’s like witchcraft.” She laughed a bit harder than normal at that and the cat sneezed into her water bowl. 

“Good for you.” Niall grinned, lifting the milk carton in cheers. 

# ❄ ❆ ❅ ❆ ❄

She’d always thought witches standing in a cold forest in skimpy dresses was a horror film cliché...Now Harry was standing in the middle of a small clearing near Lou’s house, candle in hand, adorned in a black organza blouse and a high-waisted black skirt. Fabric was dancing above her knees, the seams of her skirt moving with the breeze. The lace applicées on the front of her blouse shifted against her bare chest as she breathed, drawing her nipples tight as she waited for midnight. What she had always scoffed at in movies didn’t affect her at all, she could draw enough warmth from the fire of her candle to heat her entire body. She’d said the spell to light it out loud, even though she was getting the hang of simple non-verbal spells by now, just out of nostalgia. 

Eyes gazing up at the full moon, Harry was filled with hope. Having met Louise’s coven and practiced controlling every aspect of her magic for a month and a half now, she could truly feel the changes in her body. Niall had been right when she’d said Harry was more relaxed than ever before. And it wasn’t just sleeping with the coven leader. It was letting that deeply repressed part of herself out to play. It was feeling like she well and truly belonged for the very first time after a life of wandering from one foster family to the next. It was finally finding something she was really good at. And it was having Thyra to help her get through each and every day, even when it felt like there was no point. Harry looked back at her familiar, sitting in the cover of the trees and watching over her. 

She knew it was beginning the second she heard Oli caw and her candle’s flame flickered and burned even higher than before. This was the start of her challenge...If only somebody had told her what the challenge was. 

Harry heard steps coming from every direction, closing in on her. Her breath hitched, heart beating faster. Realistically, she knew these were her friends coming towards her, but her body reacted as if she were frightened. 

She spotted a bright flash of light in front of her. Suddenly she remembered the flame of her candle needed to stay alight through all of this. She crouched down, pressing the long stem into the hardened winter floor until it was somewhat stable, then walked around it so the candle was between her and her familiar. Thyra would keep an eye on it. 

Harry squared her shoulders, widening the stance of her bare feet and stretching her neck from side to side. There was another flash of light. It looked like actual lightning. Maybe a storm? Harry felt the light of her magick thrum under her fingertips excitedly. Louise had taught her how to protect herself from rain and wind, if she put more power into that spell and slightly modified it, she should be able to ward off lightning. 

_Thyra, come closer,_ she thought and her familiar did exactly as told. 

Jade stepped out of the trees, lightning crackling between her extended hands. She smiled devilishly, continuously chanting something Harry couldn’t understand. 

_“Lightning, rain and wind,_

_They are standing in my way._

_Protect me against their forces combined,_

_So that exist at peace I may.”_

Harry formed a ball with her hands and closed her eyes, feeling her magick cumulate. She could sense a light spray of water and wind hitting her from Jade’s direction and let it happen for a few more seconds. Lightning cracked right in front of her. Her eyes shot open and she released her grip on the spell in her hands, directing the ball of protection to cover her, Thyra and the candle. 

Jade was still smiling, reaching up to the sky. The rain increased, coming down furiously, but the inside of Harry’s bubble stayed dry as she continuously fed magick into it. Leaves and dirt were lifted from the ground and barraged against the bubble to no avail. Jade brought her hands down in one swift movement, bringing with it a call of lighting that hit Harry’s bubble right above her head. She could feel her spell flicker for a second, breathing hard as she tried to absorb the immense energy that had just hit her. 

Her opponent seemed satisfied, her never-fading smile suddenly less devious and more genuine. She did a quick curtsy and stepped back, floating her candle to her front to take it in her hands as she waited for the rest of the ritual to proceed. Harry slowly dropped her spell and mentally checked in with Thyra. 

A stick cracked on Harry’s left and she turned, watching for any sign of what was to come. It was suspiciously dark in the direction the sound had come from. Harry could barely make out the trees, her vision refusing to get used to the loss of light. Instead, it got worse and worse. 

_Oh,_ Harry thought. Darkness. Well, this was going to be easy. She’d waited for an opportunity to release her light long enough. A smile stretched her lips and she licked them in anticipation. With her eyes closed and her head thrown back, she started to sing, her voice carrying far. 

_“Golden, golden, golden_

_As I open my eyes._

_Hold it, focus, hoping._

_Take me back to the light.”_

She opened her eyes on the last line, letting the brightness of her magick flow out through her eyes, her hands and feet, singing it out into the night, bright enough to rival the full moon. Within seconds the darkness vanished and Zayn stepped into the clearing, her candle unlit. Her features were schooled, but Harry detected a slight eyebrow raise from her. With a wave of her hand, she ignited a flame around the wick and winked at her friend. 

A low growl came from behind her and Harry turned, just in time to spot a giant bear, charging towards her. Shit. As easy as everything had come to her until now, she had no idea how to deal with a creature of this size. She felt herself panic, jumping from one foot to the other. The least she could do was a shield spell. 

_“A bear_

_Is barrelling my way._

_Protect me on this day.”_

Harry hoped that would work to hold the bear at bay for a bit while she thought of something else. Her panic-rhyming was a bit pathetic, but a shield appeared about halfway between her and the tree line nonetheless.

 _“More,”_ Thyra said behind her. 

_“I’m trying,”_ Harry hissed back, reinforcing her shield. 

The bear crashed against the shield, falling on its behind and pawing at its nose in a disgruntled manner. Harry would’ve laughed if she didn’t feel her shield crumbling upon the impact. There must’ve been something else…

Maybe she could buy time with an illusion? She could’ve guessed she would need everything she’d learned up until now for this ritual. 

_“A river flows,_

_In the direction I chose,_

_In front of me_

_For everyone to see.”_

The illusion of water came rushing in from between the trees and settled as a continuous flow, acting as a visual border between her and her opponent.

 _“Make it physical,”_ Thyra encouraged. Oh. Harry felt like a huge idiot. 

She started by rebuilding her shield, just in case her plan didn’t work. Then she conjured a rope and wrapped it tightly around the bear’s snout, securing it with a bow. The animal kept trying to bat it off, but Harry was deft. The corners of her lips quirked watching the bear try to take it off by rubbing its face on the ground. 

Perfect, it was distracted for a little bit. Harry started building a brick wall behind the creature, carefully constructing a prison for it. Thankfully, conjuration had really turned out to be her absolute strong suit. She could do it without words and she was quick, but not quick enough…

The bear was getting frustrated. It huffed and took a deep breath, tearing the rope from its snout with a deafening growl. Uh-oh. Harry concentrated on building the side walls of her confinement. A mistake. The bear stood up on its hind legs and growled again, only slightly put off by the fact that the water it ran into was not wet at all. Harry realized too late that her shield spell had faded to the point where it was barely there. The grizzly snarled and hurled its body forward, claws tearing through the remainder of the shield spell and ripping into Harry’s sleeve, slicing it open from her elbow to her hand. 

A sharp pain shot down her arm, making Harry’s concentration flicker. The confinement was almost built. Harry took some steps back, trusting that Thyra could protect the candle. Lou had promised her that the challenge would focus on her and not hurt her familiar. 

The bear was getting back up to attack again. Harry formed a fist with her injured hand and started conjuring iron bars, linking them together. Shit. Why hadn’t she thought of this before? This was much quicker than a brick wall. The last part of the confinement was built just as the bear reared up to attack again, this time attempting a bite. 

Harry barely jumped out of the way, keeping her focus on the gate floating behind the creature. It was getting ferocious, clearly ready for a final strike to end Harry. No such thing would happen. Harry brought the iron bars forward and slammed them down in front of the bear, who looked up confusedly and turned to walk around the gate. By the time it turned, Harry had used all her focus to move the brick walls she’d created to form a cage around the bear. 

_“Move these walls that I created,_

_Contain the threat in front of me._

_Keep this creature isolated._

_Lock it in and throw the key.”_

The gap left between the brick and iron was too small for the bear to fit through, but Harry didn’t want to leave anything unfinished. She breathed out, exhaustion threatening to make her lose focus, but ultimately closed the bear off entirely. 

Just seconds after that, the bear vanished from its confinements and Harry panicked for a second, thinking it would attack from somewhere else, but then Perrie walked out of the woods. She had her candle and took her place in the circle that was now forming around Harry. She nodded slightly, and Harry took that as a good sign. This task had definitely kicked her ass, but Louise’s was still up. Surely the coven leader wouldn’t make it easy for her. 

There was a breath of time, in which Harry gathered herself, focused on her magick and its light and readied herself for what was to come. The gash in her arm stung, dirt digging into her flesh. She considered cleaning it, but she was too on edge. What if Lou attacked from the shadows? 

No such thing happened. Louise simply walked out into the clearing, carrying a beautiful wooden box under her arm and a candle in the other. 

She stopped a few feet away from Harry and conjured up an intricately carved altar to set the box on. Then she pulled a small block of bronze metal from her pocket and put it on top of the box, before stepping into the circle. 

Harry went to inspect the box and of course it was locked. The pain pulsating in her arm prevented her from thinking straight so she looked at the witches around her, finding miniscule indicators of worry in their expressions and decided now was as good a time as any to clean and dress her wound. She conjured some water to wash the slowly clumping blood off her skin and placed a stalk of basil along the cut before wrapping it in a thin gauze. Of course that only minimally helped with the pain, but at least the gash was clean and her blood wasn’t dripping onto the ground anymore. 

Now that that was taken care of, she could tackle her last task. She took the piece of bronze and turned it in her hand. Which types of magick had she used in this challenge already? Pure protection against the storm and partially the bear, a counterspell for the darkness, illusion and conjuration. Transmutation was the one big thing she’d yet to do. Harry gathered her thoughts and grasped the metal tight in her healthy hand. 

_“Shape metal like chalk,_

_Stir it like a cup of tea._

_Open me this lock,_

_Make me a key.”_

The rough edges of the bronze in her hand softened, but Harry needed to put more energy into it. When she felt that all edges were rounded, but nothing more was happening, she closed her eyes with a sigh. She’d been right: Louise had brought the hardest task. 

_“You forgot your intuition, your sight,”_ Tyra reminded gently, rubbing up against Harry’s bare legs. 

“You are the most helpful creature on this planet.” 

_“It’s in the name.”_

Her eyes were still closed, but a smile crossed her face. Harry imagined a key, not just any key, but the one that she needed to open this box. She could feel the ridges inside the lock and how they would lift if she managed to make a key exactly like the one in her head. After a deep breath, she repeated the words and the metal practically melted inside her fist. She kept her focus on the image her magick had given her and did her best to work it into the key. 

When she was finished, she held her candle up to the altar and after only slight hesitation put the key inside the lock. It slid in effortlessly and clicked when she turned it. A breath of relief escaped everybody at the clearing. The coven stepped forward and gathered around Harry as she slowly lifted the lid of the box. The other sorceresses placed their candles along the top of the altar, leaving the middle space open for Harry, who only now realized that her candle was a deep red, while everybody else’s was white. 

Inside the box was a leatherbound book with a thick buckle. Lou stepped up to the altar and carefully lifted the book out of its box. 

“Sorceress Harriet,” she spoke with a chant-like cadence. “You have completed your challenge, beating every task you were faced with. Are you ready to join this, my coven for the rest of your existence and defend our secrets with your life?”

“I am, Priestess,” Harry swore. “May I say more?” 

“You may.” Louise nodded with the hint of a smile. 

“You have changed my life...turned it upside down and taught me so much since I met you,” Harry started. “I am eternally grateful for your patience and easy acceptance, Priestess and sorceresses of this coven. I hereby pledge my undying loyalty.” 

Louise was now fully smiling, as were the other witches. She opened the buckle on the book and Harry saw the words burned into the leather: Coven Chronicles. 

The box was placed under the altar and the book opened where it had been left off. Under the title of “Louise Tomlinson’s Coven” was a list of three names: Perrie’s, Zayn’s and Jade’s. 

“By signing your full name into this book, you leave behind your life as a nameless sorceress and enter a new life as who you were truly meant to be, Harriet,” Louise announced. “By affirming your choice for the third time this evening and writing your name in your own blood, you are rebirthed.” 

Harry opened the loosely tied bandages on her arm and let them fall to the ground. Her minor knowledge of herbology had somewhat paid off, as the bleeding had almost stopped entirely. Zayn handed her a black quill and Harry pierced it into her wound with a hiss. Rebirth was painful. She lifted the sufficiently covered tip of the quill and signed her full name into the book. 

Everybody reached out to hold each other’s hands and they looked up into the sky. 

“Harriet Styles, you are welcomed into the coven you were destined to come to,” they said in unison and Harry could feel herself well up. Never in her life had she been anywhere she was truly destined to be. It was a good thing her head was tilted back to keep the tears at bay. 

“Blood has been gifted to Seiðr tonight, may it be the only blood young Harriet must give in her life,” Louise said and they dropped their hands with a final squeeze. 

Suddenly the tense and ritualic atmosphere loosened. Harry was engulfed in a group hug and kissed on the forehead. They sat her down on a rock and tended to her wounds. Congratulations were whispered as everybody discussed the unexpected turns of Harry’s challenge. Harry just leaned back against Lou’s front and let it all happen, the chatter washing over her pleasantly. Thyra hopped up into her lap and put her paws on her chest. 

_“You did well,”_ her clear voice rang in Harry’s head. _“I am proud of you, sorceress.”_

With those words, Harry thought for the first time ever that maybe her life had purpose and direction. This newly discovered part of herself made her feel whole and grounded in a way she’d been looking to feel ever since she could remember. With Lou by her side, as well the rest of their coven, she could continue growing and learning how to use her magick. And if Lou could get everything in order, maybe Niall could become a bigger part of her new life at the turn of the year.

Then her family would be complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments mean the world to me!  
> Here's a rebloggable [tumblr post.](https://evilovesyou.tumblr.com/post/639325750961504256/must-be-the-season-of-the-witch-by-4ureyesonly28)


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